Authors’ note: I tried to get this post up yesterday, but fell asleep while I was typing!

I tried to go off of my pain medication for a few days. I wanted to break out of the fog and feel. for a change. It was hard, but it was wonderful. The taste of good port. Sunshine on my face. The feel of Amy touching my hand.

Alas, all good things come at a price. I woke up screaming in pain on Easter Sunday.
We ran to the hospital at O dark thirty, got shot up with enough pain dilaudid to almost work and we were sent on our way.

The sun was coming up as we were heading home and Amy stopped by a creek where the Virginia Bluebells were blooming.

I do not own a good camera at the moment. As I predicted, he image sensor got trashed at Holi DC – but my first camera was still lying around – a Canon Powershot A580. As is custom for me, I made the most of what I the good Lord gave me.

I dove headlong into the sea of green and blue . Happy as an old hound dog.

Then we went to mass at the chapel at the Benedictine Sisters of Virginia. The good sisters were very kind. Making every every effort to make sure we were comfortable and able to take part in communion. The chapel is a small wonder of Arts & Crafts architecture.  Amy loves the garden, but I would love to to a workshop. I hate making phone calls for that kind of thing,so it you wan it it happen I will leave it up to you.

For Easter supper I made jumbo bacon cheeseburgers (Just a burger for me, I can’t do dairy anymore) with portobello mushrooms. 

Then we curled up on the couch with Qiona and Invicuts and watched some of Ben Hur and I took the pain meds the hospital prescribed for me. The fog settled in and I thought about the pain of the last few days and realized to feel the kiss of my Amy’s lips, to feel the Virginia bluebells along the creek – and that creeks cold water . . . I would do it again in a second.

Christ is risen.
Life is beautiful.

Since I don’t have a camera, and I can’t really play much banjo until my shoulder is stronger (especially with the new katana) I will be focusing on a little project with the working title of Crisfield Guitar. I have new tools to help me interface my BAHA implant with the mixing board, but it still not quite as objective as natural hearing. I need help.

Since my car is still stuck in Crisfield, I also will need a ride. I will play harmonica, jaw harp, ukulele and tell stories all the way.

Volunteers to help with sound engineering would be greatly appreciated. We will be using a Zoom R16 and a pair of MXL 900 mics. Volunteers will be fed with home cooking by Patrick and Miss Trudy.

Another project already in the works is a rather, um, unusual songbook. More on that later.

At  some point over the weekend Any kissed me and said, “Welcome back.”

Happy Easter, everybody!

What gives, baby?

Mike writes,

Patrick, several days ago, Dear Old Dad posted the fact that he, you and the doctors have to find out what the (heck) was going on with you. He asked us to pray for you because you’ve been having some weird and painful symptoms. Yet all we hear in the meantime is news of Invictus and Quinoa’s birthday. Shouldn’t there be some news of you? Your Dad said he’ll keep us posted, but all we hear of is a cat (albeit a beautiful one) and a hedgehog. What gives, baby

We never really got any answers from the hospital visits, so I didn’t know what to post.

Sometimes when you are in pain, perhaps especially when you are in pain, it is easier to focus on the little household things. I can play my guitar, thank God for that – but it will be months before my shoulder is healed enough for me to sit with the five-string in more or less normal banjo posture. The guitar is much easier and I am hoping to do a little project soon.

Then there is the neuropathy in my feet. not much to say on that except that I am in agony, the prescriptions don’t work and Amy and I are trying to find the right doctor and hold together while I deal with indescribable pain. It used to be once in a while, but now it is constant.

There are other little things. My old Mercury is stuck in Crisfield and with all the surgeries since October I have been pretty much stuck in our apartment. (I REALLY need a ride to get my car and see my folks!) It has been so long since I have been able to take a walk in the woods alone or sit by the banks of the Chesapeake I . . . well, enough of my troubles. I was getting along by positing pictures of my two little companions.

I will try to post less Dr. Doolittle and get some more work accomplished.

Than you for understanding.

God bless,